Underneath the Skin
by thegoatromantic
Summary: HG/SS, Hermione is kidnapped and tortured by a group of Death Eaters. They bring her back to the Malfoy Manor where she is kept in a dungeon and cared for by the dreadful Severus Snape, who must choose whether to save her or destroy her.
1. The Freaks Are Out Tonight

Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to my second story, I'm glad you're here. Please feel free to read my story (and then review it when you're done?). My hopes for this story are that it will be a long, successful, enjoyable read for you, so let me know how I'm doing in making those things happen for you.

Oh, and one more thing: I don't own the characters used in this story, but the plot is mine. The characters all belong to J. K. Rowling, so any thanks you have go to her for making this possible!

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**The Freaks Are Out Tonight (Chapter 1)**

It was a dark, moonless night, and Hermione shivered as she walked down the street. The flickering street lamps were the only offerings of light, and Hermione secretly wished that they would just die out and stop exposing the filth of the streets to her. As if the night wasn't eerie enough on it's own, what with the treacherous wind and lack of light, some unknown being had decided that it needed to be worse for her and that she needed to see the filth in the street that she walked through. She winced as she sidestepped a man sleeping in the gutter, his hand clamped possessively around the neck of a bottle. She walked a little faster and glanced over her shoulder often, making sure that nobody was following her.

The wind howled, its scream shrill and earsplitting, and she shivered as it seeped through her clothes and nestled deep into her bones. Normally she wouldn't dream of going outside on a night like this one, but earlier that week she had received a letter from Ron and Harry, requesting that she meet them at the Leaky Cauldron later that week.

The letter was random, totally and completely. She hadn't known that Harry was at the Burrow, and she wondered, on the same thought, why she hadn't been invited earlier. Usually when they met, they met as a trio, and they usually showed up at the same time. From the way the letter was written, she had gotten the feeling that Harry had been there for a while, perhaps a few weeks. It struck Hermione as odd, but she dismissed the feeling and continued to read the letter, sighing as she finished it. She laid the letter down, storing the vague information in it in case she needed it later. As far as she could tell, it was nothing seriously urgent, but nonetheless, they requested her presence as soon as was possible.

And so here she was, walking down a filthy street in the middle of the night, going to meet with Ron and Harry in The Leaky Cauldron. She passed an alleyway and then paused, taking a moment to look around before she walked into the alley and took out her wand. She walked up to the wall, checked the area again, and tapped the pattern onto the bricks. Shortly after her tapping, the bricks on the wall moved and split apart, and an opening appeared for her to walk though. Hermione felt relief as she stepped through the bricks and felt the familiar feel of magic in the air around her.

She paused in the doorway and rolled her shoulders, trying to work some of the knots and stress out of them. Her little moonlight stroll had shaken her up more than she had realized, and she had never felt more glad to be in Diagon Alley than she was right now. As soon as her heart stopped pounding, Hermione straightened herself out, hoping desperately that she hadn't ran through the passage, and began her calm, and casual, stroll to the Cauldron.

As she walked through the streets, Hermione realized that there were quiet a few people mulling about, especially for this time of the night. She peeked through store windows and was met with nothing but darkness, meaning that the stores were closed. That meant that none of the traffic was for the stores. Hermione looked around suspiciously and quickened her pace a little bit. Tonight was a very odd night, and as she neared the Leaky Cauldron, she decided to ask Ron and Harry if they knew about anything that was going on.

Upon pushing open the doors, Hermione was assaulted with the heavy stench of alcohol and noise. It seemed that for every one person out in the street, there was four to replace them in here. Hermione grunted as someone ran past her through the doors and out into the streets. Before she could move, another large body bumped into her and ran through the doors, yelling crude words and shaking his fists as he chased after the first man. Without giving it much thought, Hermione flattened herself to one side of the doors, assuming that there would be a hoard of people following the two men out of the bar. She slowly inched her way along the way and sighed happily as she noticed Ron and Harry in the corner. The two watched her with grins, obviously giggling at her predicament. She rolled her eyes and walked toward them, thinking about all of the strange things that had happened tonight.

The two boys were already prepared for her arrival: a chair next to Ron was pulled out and a drink was waiting for her on the table. Hermione stared at it warily, but Harry waved away her doubts and said, "It just got here, and I've been watching it the entire time." She nodded and took a big gulp of the drink as she sat down at the table.

"So what on earth is so important that you two had to meet with me tonight?" She yawned, as if to support her disdain for the time of their meeting. The two noticed, cringing as she yawned. Harry attempted to lighten her mood by smiling his usual calm smile, and then he looked around, making sure that there were no extra ears in their conversation. Once he was satisfied with his results, he leaned in close and began to speak.

"I'm sure that you noticed that there was an abnormally large amount of people in the street when you were on your way here, correct?" Hermione nodded at him and took a sip of her drink again. Harry continued. "Rumor has it that something special is supposed to happen tonight." Ron placed his mug on the table and sighed.

"I told Harry that it's probably just a bar event, but he wouldn't believe me. He's determined to believe what Luna heard from her father." Hermione's gaze swiped over to Harry and he blushed, shrugging at her.

"Well, it always seems that Luna and her father know what's going on before everyone else does. I figured that maybe they'll be right about this." Harry picked up his mug and took a long swig of his drink. Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing he was only doing it to hide his red cheeks. So she turned to Ron, allowing him to continue the story.

"Luna and her father told Harry that supposedly there's supposed to be some sort of star movement tonight, and that magic will be stronger for certain witches and wizards. I think it's a load of nonsense, but Harry is determined to believe what they say." Ron gave Harry a pointed look, to which Harry helplessly shrugged his shoulders and looked away. Hermione nodded.

"But why is everyone gathered here?" She looked around and saw many different types of wizards and witches huddled in the bar. In some places, people were shoulder to shoulder with others, and she was glad that her table was relatively uncrowded, although she wondered how Harry and Ron had managed to keep it so private for so long. "What's so special about being in Diagon Alley at this time?

Harry shrugged his shoulders, finally deciding to take control of the conversation again. "We haven't figured that out yet," he laughed, "We just decided to meet here for tonight. We didn't know that so many people would be here." Hermione grunted as a large elbow came towards her. She fell back into Ron in an attempt to avoid the appendage, and Ron tensed up, trying to carefully remove her from his lap. He placed his hands under her shoulders and slowly lifted her up. When she was righted again, she looked over and noticed that his face was bright red. She pointed to his cheeks and began to make a comment.

"Ron, your cheeks-" He cut her off and quickly fed her a barrage of excuses.

"It's really warm in here. There's a lot of people. You're not easy to lift with just my hands. I'm not feeling all that great. It's cold outside." Ron bit his lip and looked into the crowd, trying to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself. A few minutes passed by silently, and Hermione finally spoke up again. She turned to Harry and he flinched, assuming he was going to be scolded. Hermione frowned and began to ask more questions.

"So how long have you been at the Burrow with Ron? From the way the letter was written, it seems like you've been there for a while." She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out the letter, setting in the the middle of the table. Harry grabbed the letter and scanned it briefly.

"I've been there for a couple of weeks. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia decided that they needed to take their little "Dudley-Wudley" on a vacation, so they told me I needed to find somewhere else to be. I told Ron and he offered to let me stay at the Burrow while they're away." Harry handed the letter back to Hermione and leaned back in his chair. "They assume I'm going to destroy the house while they're away."

Hermione giggled. "You're more likely to destroy something with Ron around than you are alone in your Uncle's house." Hermione thought for a minute and added, "Poor Molly, stuck with you loud, crazy boys running around her house. I'm surprised she hasn't gone crazy yet." Harry smirked and took another sip of his drink.

"Well, she does give us food, so we try not to be too bad."


	2. Unenjoyable Futures

Author's note: I know this one came out really soon after the last chapter, but they probably won't update this often; maybe once every two days? I promise I'll try really hard to churn out some worthwhile reading, so stick with me! For now, enjoy chapter two, and don't forget to review it when you're done!

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**Unenjoyable Futures (Chapter 2)**

The trio spent almost another hour in the bar before they finally decided to end the night. Nothing had happened tonight, much to Harry's disappointment, but they did find out what was drawing so many people to the Alley.

Hermione had walked up to the bar in an attempt to pay for their tab, rather bravely, she thought, thinking back on the crowd she had just shoved her way through. On her way to the bar, she had naturally overheard some pieces of conversation. None of them interested her, except one small piece.

A bald man off to her right was talking with a short, angry looking woman. The woman pointed at him and yelled, but it had no effect in the noisy rancor of the bar, although it seemed that the emotion behind her words got through and the man could tell she was trying to yell. His face twisted and he threw up his arms, looking around angrily.

"The ol' bat said they was a 'posed to be 'ere, but I ain' seen none of 'em yet! It ain' my fault that they ain' here, so dun you yell a' me, you wretched ol' woman." He pointed down at her and she slapped his hand away and then looked around. Hermione chose that time to avert her eyes and continue on her trek to the bar. She didn't want to be caught spying on a conversation, and she didn't figure that the angry looking old woman would administer a nice punishment upon her if she caught her spying. The lady looked like she had years of rage waiting to be unleashed upon an unsuspecting victim.

When she finally reached it, the bartender looked like he had gone through a war and back. Hermione felt bad for him, but there was really nothing she could do for him. She hoped that he got the next night off, maybe the one after that as well. Now pushing a little, she shoved her way to an empty chair and sat down. She raised her and, and within a few minutes, she had the bartender's attention.

He sighed and drearily asked her what he could do for her. Hermione shook her head and pulled some money out of her pocket. "I'm just here to pay for our tab, " she said, dropping the money into his hands. The man was about to turn away when an idea suddenly struck at her. "Wait!" she shouted, and she reached out to grab at his sleeve. Realizing what she was doing, she sheepishly withdrew her hand and sat back down at the bar.

The bartender stared at her, amazed at her little outburst. He looked almost afraid of her, she noted, rubbing her hands below the counter, as he walked back over to her. Her stood a few feet farther away from her this time, but waited for her to speak all the same. He crossed his arms and stared at her. "What exactly can I do for you?"

Hermione looked all around her, then back at the man. "I was just wondering if you could tell me why all of these people are here tonight." The man studied her face a moment before looking out over the crowd and scowling.

"I haven't the slightest, but all these...people," he spat, "Look as if they're ruffians that not even Knockturn Alley would accept. The freaks are out tonight, so you better watch your back." Hermione nodded solemnly and the man continued. "If that's all you'll be needing, I have other customers to assist." Hermione thanked the man and turned toward the direction of her table, which she could not see because it was blocked by a mass of bodies. Hermione sighed and slid off the stool, readying herself to swim through the tumultuous crowd that blocked her table.

But before she could slip off the stool, a hand reached around from behind her and covered her mouth. The hand's pair slipped around her waist and pulled her against the chest of a warm and sculpted body. A gruff voiced sounded in her ear.

"Jus' stay calm, Missy, an' I won' hurt ya."

Hermione wanted to do the exact opposite of that as soon as the hand covered her mouth, but she could feel herself getting sleepy, and she soon lost consciousness. The last sound she heard was a dull laugh that sounded like it was far off in the distance.

When Hermione came to she was sitting on a cold, damp floor, and there was a light flickering annoyingly above her. The room smelled musty and she suspected that it hadn't been cleaned in a very, very long time, if ever. She wriggled, seeing how much freedom she had, because she did not feel like staying in this room for any longer than she had to.

She didn't have much, she discovered. Her arms were bound with a rope, as were her ankles. Panic slowly crept up her spine when she felt for her wand and realized it wasn't there. Oh, there it is, she thought, seeing it dangled in front of her eyes. Hermione gasped, realizing that there was someone in front of her. She jerked backwards, trying to put distance between herself and the strange man. He smirked.

"Come, come, Missy, I ain' gonna hurt ya, so let me get a look a' your pretty face." He grabbed Hermione chin roughly and turned her head from side to side, staring at her as if he was taking in details. With his other hand he grabbed out a picture and held it up to her face. When the two images before his eyes matched, he smiled a large, tooth-lacking grin, and patted her cheek. "Well, Missy, looks like you're jus' the gal we was lookin' fer." The man waved his hand and a large, fatty pair of hands grabbed her shoulders from behind and lifted her up. The larger man flung her over his shoulder in a graceless manner, and all of her hair fell in front of her eyes. She tried to shake her head to move it, but her body was ruthlessly shaken when she tried.

Given no other choices, Hermione watched the ground pass beneath her and her captor. Whatever they, he, she thought rudely, was walking on was well-worn, and it was very close to being dirt, assuming it wasn't actually dirt. She doubted it was dirt, however, because they appeared to be walking down a dark hallway, probably underneath a building of some sort. Hermione wondered briefly if they were below the Alley, and what sort of chance for survival she would have if she screamed for help. Deciding it was not worth the risk, Hermione kept her mouth shut and tried not to grunt as the man resituated her on his shoulder. She let out a garbled noise when her stomach met with his shoulder and tore the air from her lungs, and she began to gasp to fill them again. She coughed a few times, and wished the man that was carrying her an unenjoyable future.

After what seemed to her like hours, the scenery beneath her finally changed, and the world around her got brighter, not by much, but it was brighter. They were in a forest now, and Hermione feared what they were going to do with her. Thoughts ran quickly through her head, and when the realization that she didn't have her wand dawned on her again, she felt herself shatter into a million pieces. Without her wand, she was helpless and could do nothing more than scratch and hiss at the disgusting men who were holding her captive.

Deciding it was time to try to escape, Hermione squirmed, giving great effort into the task of escaping the binds she found herself placed in. Distracted by trying to escape, and being faced the other direction, Hermione did not notice the fat, scarred hand that was coming down quickly toward her bottom. A tear slipped from her eye as the hand made contact, and it wandered down her cheek as she screamed into a damp cloth that had been shoved deeply into her mouth to keep her quiet. A scratchy voice spoke next to her ear and she shivered, completely afraid of the man speaking to her.

"Ye'll stop yer screamin' and wrigglin' if you wanna get out o' this alive, Missy." He grinned and showed her his gaping mouth, which was almost completely devoid of teeth. He licked his cracked lips and stared into her eyes. Hunger emanated from his eyes and mixed with the fear that leaked from hers, making the situation even more uncomfortable for Hermione. She winced as his rotting breath assaulted her nostrils and rolled over her face. "And untouched." Hermione stopped wiggling and stared at him, her eyes wide. "Grendel over there likes his women to give a bit of a struggle." A man off to her left winked at her and opened his arms wide. Hermione whimpered. She looked back toward the small, hairless man who spoke to her and pleaded with her eyes. He responded to her silent plea by snarling, and then he walked up toward the front of the group to discuss something with their leader.

Had Hermione been able to see anything but the ground beneath her captor's feet, she would have seen that the leader of the group was a small, short little woman with an angry face. The lady scowled at the man that walked up next to her, and she slapped the back of his shoulder. A load crack echoed through the forest as the lady's hand bounced off his shoulder, and the man grabbed it, glaring down at the woman.

Hermione couldn't see anything, but she heard the crack and dreaded to think what it is. For all I know, she thought, they could be preparing a coffin to stuff my mangled body into. She dreaded the thought, but told herself that she had to consider it a possibility. She had no clue who these men were, or more importantly, what they wanted from her. She wished that she had some clue, but nobody was saying anything. Least of all her.

Hermione gagged as the cloth in her mouth shifted. She got a brief taste of it, and it tasted like someone had dipped it in sewer water before they decided to jam it in her mouth. She frowned, hoping that they had the decency to use clean water and a clean rag. Hermione stared down at the dirty calves of the man carrying her and doubted anything about this group was clean, least of all their rags.

Feeling like she was doing nothing for herself, she decided to try and went about it by attempting to remove the gag from her mouth. Using her tongue, she tried to push the cloth out of her mouth. After several unsuccessful attempts, she slumped on the man's back and decided to wait until they brought her to wherever it was they were bringing her.

After another could of minutes, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She was too tired. There was so much going on, and she just wanted to sleep and forget about everything that had happened. Thinking hopefully, she thought that perhaps she would find herself waking up in a few minutes and discovering that it was only a bad dream. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and began to pray for that to be the case.


	3. Killing Where We Dine

Author's Note: Here I am, a couple of days later, with more story, just like I promised you all! I was super pleased to see all of the alerts telling me that I'm being followed. Er. That this story is being followed. Whatever.

Anyway, so I've recently discovered that it's AMAZINGLY difficult to churn out large amounts of good words at one time. I'm disappointed that this chapter is only three thousand or so words, but my goodness! As much as I try (and truthfully tonight I'm a little lacking in patience; I wanted to get this chapter out for you all), I just can't get more than a couple thousand words at a time. Perhaps I could get out a few thousand more with some help? Help being more reviews from my readers. Tell me how I'm doing, what you love, and what you hate. I don't care what you say as long as it's relevant to the story. I know what you're thinking, (G_ee, begging. How pathetic)_, but I love reading the reviews that you all give me, even if it's a half a sentence in broken english telling me how bad my story is (I lied, I don't want to hear that, but you get what I'm saying). I mean, if I get those reviews then I know you're reading it, and seeing as how this is chapter three, it must mean that you're enjoying it too, yeah? So here's the deal, I'll work on getting you more to read each chapter, and you give me more to read after each chapter that I post. And remember: it doesn't have to be long or fantastic, it just has to be there. But I'm not forcing you, and I most certainly will not deny you reading material.

Also, to all of you who write a couple of thousand words per chapter: you're a superhuman and you deserve a medal!

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**Underneath the Skin (Chapter 3)**

When Hermione woke up, she found that it was much more pleasant than she could ever have imagined: she was on a soft, luscious carpet next to a warm, crackling fire, and not buried alive in a deep, dark, insect-infested hole in the middle of nowhere. For a moment, she had forgotten the predicament she had been in when she had began to fall asleep, and was tempted to fall back asleep for a few more minutes, but the sound of voices mumbling nearby woke her up and reminded her of what had transpired before she passed out.

Her first thought, once fully waking up, was to squirm and try for escape once again, but the ropes binding her arms and legs did not budge. They're probably secured with magic, she thought, cursing the talent of the spellcaster as she burned her wrists with the fraying rope. Having spent of all of her energy, she dropped her head back onto the floor and listened to the voices speaking from across the room.

The voices that had been mumbling, she discovered, were not actually mumbling, but sitting at a long dining table having a normally volumed discussion. There were five heads present at the table: two blonde heads, both of which Hermione recognized, one woman, her captor, and, Hermione gasped as she saw him, her potions professor, Severus Snape.

The trio had always assumed that Snape was up to no good, but they had never had any evidence to back up their accusations. Until now, that was. She blinked, thinking that her eyes were showing her something false, but when she opened them again, she was met with the same image of her potions professor sitting across the table from Lucius and Draco Malfoy

The elder blonde, Lucius Malfoy, watched the bald man talk, his expression bored and his face tightening. The man was paying little attention to Lucius's face, and focusing most of his energy on staying out of his reach. He threw up his arms as he spoke, watching the entire time to make sure that he did not accidentally knock anything on the table over.

"I swear I found 'er like tha'. Me an' my men din' touch the girl one bit more than we 'ad to. Course, the leaves are from the forest, but other than tha', she's pure an' innocent, I swear! You can e'en check yerself if ya'd like to: she ain' got no bruises or cuts, nothin'!" The man held up his hands and slammed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the image of the elder Malfoy's ever present anger. If he could not see it, it could not hurt him.

Lucius had no plans for the man, however, and snorted at his cowardice. He lifted his hand and waved it at the man. "You may leave now," he said, signaling for the man to leave. "You've done what was asked of you. If your services are required, we shall call for you." The man nodded quickly and scurried toward the door, tripping on a large rug only once before he made it to his destination. He opened it quickly and shut it with a loud slam that echoed throughout the room. Hermione cringed, fearing the reactions from the people still at the table. To her surprise, nothing was thrown and she heard no bloodcurdling screams of pain that someone would give as their body was ripped apart from the inside out. Apparently the man had not offended the Death Eaters to a point where they viewed him as being better off alive than dead.

After a few tense moments of silence, Lucius looked across the table at one of the other attendants, Severus Snape, and cleared his throat. Snape looked up at Lucius with his usual, knowing stare, and waited for the man to talk. Lucius, undaunted by his longtime friend's watchful eye, spoke.

"What do you suggest we do with her now? According to the rumors, mudbloods like her should have an increase in power in the next few weeks. Do you think it's possible to break her down enough to gain control of her within that time?"

Snape sat silently for a few moments, thinking, and finally answered his friend after a few moments of silence.

"I believe it could be possible. Give her a cell in your dungeons, and have someone meet with her every day to, ahem, persuade her, to join forces with us." Lucius nodded, agreeing with Snape.

"I'll trust your judgment, Severus, and have arrangements made for our guest." Lucius gave the room a once-over before he snapped his fingers, summoning a house elf.

The elf looked old, worn out, and severely abused. scars ran up and down his back, as well as on his arms and face. Life had not been easy for the little guy, but he had somehow found the ability to manage and deal with the punishments dished out at him. As long as he didn't talk back, he was pretty safe from harm.

"Y-yes, sir?" he squeaked, staring up at his master from beneath the table with large, fearful brown eyes. The rag he wore slipped off his shoulder as he gazed up, and with a small, bony hand, he righted it. As soon as he removed his hand from the fabric, it slipped back down his shoulder again and rested halfway down his arm.

Lucius stared at Severus, not even dignifying the elf with a glance in his direction. "Prepare one of the dungeon rooms for our guest." The elf nodded quickly and looked fearfully around the room, obviously looking everywhere but into his master's eyes. Hermione felt bad for the elf, but knew there was nothing she could do for him, lest she risk her life in the process.

Snape looked toward the corner where Hermione lay, and he blinked, noticing that she was awake and watching them. The rest of the people at the table looked her way and discovered the same thing as Severus had. The brown haired lady looked at her and began to shout. She was obviously uncomfortable with having a strange girl in her house.

"The dirty little mudblood is awake! She's been spying the entire time! Kill her, Lucius! Get rid of her! She's going to escape and tell everyone what's going on!" The lady looked up at her husband, her eyes pleading him to take action. The woman was wracked with pure, unadulterated fear. She shivered and quaked so much as she held onto her husband's arm that Hermione was sure she would end up tearing a whole in his expensive jacket. For reasons unknown to Hermione, the woman was utterly afraid of her presence and wanted her gone quickly.

Her husband did not seem to catch onto her fear, or if he did, he ignored it completely, and he shrugged her off his shoulder and back into her own seat. She moaned quietly as she hit the soft cushion and tangled her hands together. She gazed up at her husband as he spoke falsely calming words to her. Hermione knew that everything he said was a made up lie, born of power and smugness.

"Now, my dear, I'm sure our _guest_, would not dream of trying to escape from our home. And even if they did manage it, they would not get far. There's nothing around here for them to escape with, unless of course they planned on running." Lucius looked toward Hermione, silently warning her with his eyes and words, and she caught on to his meaning right away: escape is futile. If you run, you die.

Hermione squirmed in her binds and tried to shout, but the gag was still no looser and kept every word that she wanted to say in her mouth. She wanted so badly to spit out the venomous responses that were brewing in her mouth, but the words were trapped, forced to remain bitter in her mouth as she choked on them. She watched them, unable to do anything else but stare dumbly at them as they decided her fate around their dinner table.

It seemed sick to her, the fact that they were making treacherous, life-changing decisions around their dinner table. It was the place they ate, refueled their bodies, sustained their own life, and they were using it to determine the fate of another person's life, which in her case was most likely death. If she was lucky, her death would be quick and painless, but she had no idea what the murderous bunch had planned for her future. They were capable of anything, and she put no terrible idea past them. If she had her wand, Hermione would've struck each of them dead in their seats, ending their miserable lives and saving the lives of those who would have had the bad luck to be captured by them in the future. But as it was, Hermione was without wand and without arms, legs, or voice. She was completely vulnerable, and she was sure that they knew it just as well as she did, if not better.

Hermione's emotions jumped when Lucious began talking again, completely ignoring her and acting as if for the moment she was not there. He turned his steely gaze back down to the house elf cowering at his feet and began to bark more orders in his calm, unhurried voice.

"I expect dinner to be out on the table soon and I will not accept it being late again tonight. If it is even one minute late, I shall not hesitate to throw you mangy elves to monsters you've never dreamed of in your worst nightmare." He spat out every word he said like some sort of personal wrong had been acted out towards him, and the elf cowered after each word was thrown at him. He just nodded his head, silently taking in every word and remembering it. He had no desire to be thrown to monsters of the Dark Lord's, not now, not ever, and so he would make sure that everything was perfect for his master.

The elf raised his hand slowly, afraid of how his master would react to the movement. Luckily, Lucius only glared down at him, making the elf feel as if he had done something that could never be undone and would never be forgiven. Lucius sighed deeply and the elf immediately began to speak.

"M-master, may I leave now?" He wrung his hands together nervously while he waited for his answer. He had no clue what his master would say, and he realized that Lucius was like a ticking bomb; he never knew what reaction to expect or when to expect it, but the reaction was always explosive and painful to be around.

A sound of disgust from the woman distracted the small elf, and he stared at her, wide eyed. He was nowhere near as afraid of this woman as he was of her husband, but she was just as bad as him in his eyes because she had married the awful fellow.

"Just leave," she spat, rolling her eyes at him, but never taking them off of Hermione's figure which still lay in the corner. For some reason, she was wary of Hermione, and it bothered her. As if she was a threat to any of the Death Eaters in the room. She was completely helpless, and she could not understand why the lady still hadn't caught on to that fact.

The elf nodded and disappeared as soon as she shut her mouth, and the discussions started up again shortly after the elf had left. Lucius turned back toward Severus and folded his hands together on top of the dark wood of the table. He wiped away a crumb and scowled.

"The damn elves are worthless, all of them! They can't do a single thing correctly!" Severus did not respond, but watched as his friend went through a solitary battle of anger in his mind. As coolheaded as Lucius was and seemed to be, he was truly a spiteful, short-tempered, angry man, and it took only simple things to ignite and stoke his passionate rage and have him forever damning the poor soul that crossed him. He clenched his fists slowly once, then looked back up at Severus with eerily icy eyes. They did nothing to Severus, and he ignored Lucius completely, a thing which not many people dared to do.

Draco stood up, his head down as if he were a dog that had been beaten for showing signs of life one too many times, and apologized quickly to his father for the interruption, his eyes wandering around his father, but never directly into his eyes. He gave a hurried excuse to his father and then excused himself and quietly slipped between the two large doors at the end of the room. They shut quietly and Draco's footsteps could be heard clicking as he walked down the hallway for some other room. Lucius shook his head at his son, who was not there to see him, and instead gave his wife a poisonous stare, as if Draco's departure had been a fault of hers.

"Lucius, I suggest we get our guest to her quarters and let her settle in before we begin to persuade her into joining forces with us," He drawled, taking Lucius's attention away from his frightened wife, and looking toward the feminine body laying near the sharply crackling fireplace. Hermione shivered as he slowly swept his eyes over her form, taking in every detail of her. She wasn't sure she liked the look he was giving her, but she could offer herself no other form of protection than to slam her eyelids shut and continue hoping, despite what she knew to be true, that it was all a very bad dream that she would soon wake up from.

Lucius nodded, also looking toward Hermione. His gaze held pure hatred, and Hermione could only guess that his son had learned his intense dislike of "mudbloods" from his father, who was surely much worse in every way. Compared to his father, Draco was nearly a sympathizer.

"We have plans for you, Mudblood, and I'm sure in time you'll find that they are your plans too." There was such a reptilian aura around him that Hermione felt his tongue might dash out over his lips and taste her fear in the air. She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. Her life would be so much worse if she allowed her fear to dominate her senses and waste her energy on pointless things, such as overthinking the ways her life might be ended by the killers who were now waiting for their dinner. The thought of how ironic the situation was bit at Hermione's insides again and she could feel bile rising up her throat. It just wasn't right, and the bile stung at her throat as it slowly crawled up her insides and she felt like crying, but she would not allow herself to cry and be disgraced in front of the pompous figures sitting before her. So she blinked her eyes to rid her face of tears and stared, undaunted, at the table of people that would kill her.

Lucius noticed the change in her eyes and he snickered, finding her efforts pitiful.

"No matter how much you try," he said, standing up from his expensive velvet chair and walking toward her, his shining black shoes stepping daintly over the nice rugs that lined the floor, "You will never be able to stand against me." He snarled at her as she turned her face away from him and he reached down, tangling his fingers in her dirty hair and tearing up, effectively causing her to give a muffled yelp and bring tears to her eyes. She no longer looked so proud, and Lucius smirked, waving her head back and forth gently.

"Ah, good," he said, looking smug, "It looks like you're a fast learner." He turned toward Severus and smiled, not at all looking like an honorable man, but like a sly, deceitful killer. "Was she as fast of a learner at Hogwarts as she is now?" Severus nodded, meeting Hermione's pained and pleading gaze. He blinked once, then averted his eyes back up to Lucius's face, which was turned back toward Hermione. He was still smiling, and his smile struck more fear into Hermione than she had ever felt from one thing before.

"Well that's good," he commented, not truly meaning what he said. In an instant, his eyes changed from murderously happy to spitefully hating, and he took in a deep breath, then spat at Hermione. She flinched as it hit right below her right eye and began to slowly drip down her face. He squatted down and stared her in the eyes, immediately causing intense fear to surge through her body, despite her control, and spoke to her in a low voice.

"I don't know how it was decided that a mudblood like you would become stronger with this star alignment, but you'll do well to remember that you're powerless, at _my_ mercy, and that the best thing for you to do, starting now, would be to make sure you fulfill my wishes. Do not defy me, Mudblood, or it will be the last thing you ever do as a dirty halfbreed." He turned to Severus, still upset, and gave him a command. "Get her out of my sight."

Severus sighed once, then stood up, straightened his robes, clearly not in a hurry, and slowly made his way over to Hermione. He glanced down at her momentarily, then took out his wand and pointed it at her. Hermione cringed, waiting for the intense pain to race through every nerve in her body and kill her slowly, but it never came. Instead, she felt light and weightless, and was surprised to find herself floating a few feet above the floor. She looked over at Severus and found his face to be as emotionless as ever. She didn't want to admit it, but the sight of him, no matter how evil it was, was familiar to her and she felt slightly calmed by his presence. She knew more about him and knew that he was less likely to make some sort of erratic, spontaneous gesture like Lucius had done.

Severus turned so sharply that he was only inches from knocking shoulders with Lucius, and he strode, unhurried, toward the large doors on the other end of the room with Hermione floating silently behind him, still gagged and bound with enchanted ropes. Her heart clenched savagely and seared her chest with pain as she heard Lucius's voice speak softly behind them.

"Don't be long, Severus, there is still much I would like to discuss with you over dinner."


	4. Home is Where the Heart is

Author's Note: Ahhh, sorry it took so long to get this chapter updated! I started working on it, but then I got distracted by other things -ahem, other stories- and completely forgot about working on this chapter, and now I hope you'll all forgive me because I finally released it. This chapter was a lot more enjoyable for me to write than the last one, though I suppose it's because I had an epiphany between chapters. Now, do you promise you'll forgive me for taking so long to update if this chapter is good? Because I'd like it a lot if you would. On a completely different note: Don't forget to read, review, and enjoy! Especially do not forget to review. I super enjoy reviews, and...um...if you review my story I'll go and read one of yours to review too? I'll give it a shot if you will.

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**Home is Where the Heart is**

**Chapter 4 of "Underneath the Skin"**

**By thegoatromantic**

The dungeons under the Malfoy manor were cold, moldy, and unpleasant, Hermione noted, but at least they kept her away from the killing stares of the lord of the manor and his family. She could deal with the unfavorable living conditions as long as she wasn't constantly being judged. And spit at, she thought harshly, recalling the inhospitable treatment given to her by Lucius. She had never liked the tall, stately man, what with his arrogant attitude and meddling nature, but now she felt more than ill will towards him; she hated him. She would never forgive how he had degraded her in front of his family, all for a show of his power over her. And his point had been made: he expected to be obeyed at all costs, no exceptions. He was not a man used to being defied, and if Hermione had still been in possession of her wand, she would have fought against him with all her might and shown him how much she despised him and his overbearing smugness.

She could not stand people like Lucius Malfoy, and it was not just because he was a pureblood, but because he felt entitled to more for that very reason. Hermione could not wait until he was swept harshly from his pedestal and thrown onto the the lowly ground beneath him so that he could see how hellish he made her life. Not that he would really care. Hermione suspected that he had fed his heart to his Dark Lord long ago and now only an empty cavity remained in his chest. For a moment, Hermione thought upon his family and she felt a slight pang of pity for them, but her mind was instantly drawn back to the events at hand and how her own future would fold out.

As the two of them trekked deeper into the dungeons, Hermione found that she was not at all surprised at the state they were in: there was mold and mildew dripping from every surface that one could touch -and even ones that one could not- and a thin layer of grimy, dirt-clouded water splashed beneath Severus's feet as he trudged through past the empty cells. She had expected a dungeon no less dirty from the cruel master of the house, but was surprised at how worn down everything was; in a house as rich and expensive as the Malfoy's, she had expected even the dungeons to be respectful and tidy, or at least a little bit better maintained than they were, but she most certainly was not expecting the rotting, stinking hole that she was currently in. The bars on the cells were orange with rust and dried blood, and if one were to push on them gently, Hermione was sure they would sigh lightly before falling into the slime below and turning to dust. A shudder ran through her body and left a cold chill in its place. The dungeons gave her a bad feeling, and she was not looking forward to her time in them, sure that she would wake trembling in the middle of the night with graphic nightmares more than once during her stay here.

Hermione had been so wrapped up her in thoughts that she had barely noticed when Severus turned a corner, and she glanced around quickly, taking in as many features of the dungeon as she could. She would take the first chance she got to escape intelligently, and when the time came she would need to know how to escape from the decrepit hell-hole if she ever planned on making it out alive. Thankfully, it was all pretty straightforward; there were no turns or stairs once you got into the dungeons, just rows and rows of cells, and then at the end of the rows were two turns: a right and a left. Severus has made a left turn and Hermione made a quick note of it. She cringed as the neverending row of cells disappeared and briefly wondered exactly how many there were and whether or not they had been completely filled at one point in time. She wouldn't bat an eyelash if someone told her that they were because the fact that the Malfoy's were a bloodthirsty family dedicated to destroying everyone else and the world around them was very well-known and had not avoided her ears.

The new area that Severus brought Hermione to was not nearly as filthy as the previous area. Here the walls and floors had a certain shine that said there was an attempt to clean them not too long ago. Hermione could only say attempt because there was still so much scum stuck to everything in sight that any normal person would squirm at it and strive to be away from it. Considering the circumstances, however, Hermione decided that she would not have given much effort into cleaning the slummy area either, and that she would have done just as little to clean them as the elves who had. After all, what was the point of cleaning a torture chamber if it was just going to get dirty again in a few minutes? Apparently that mindset had been the common one for a while, because years of grime covered everything and stretched to claim more. Hermione made a small wish to whoever was watching over her that she would not become a part of the decor for the mold to claim.

A change in pace caught Hermione's attention and she realized that they were nearing her cell. She was not sure whether she was more glad or afraid that they were close, but as the distance between herself and it closed, she felt slightly more glad than fearful simply due to the small fact that she could see a tiny light flickering on the walls. Though the light was small, it was large enough to cast shadows and that meant that she would not be without light or warmth throughout the night. She was sure that if they had not given her the small luxury of the light, that she would have frozen overnight and they would return to a rigid icicle of what had once been a human. If she had been in any better of a mood, Hermione would have chuckled at her little joke, but as it was she was in no mood to laugh or smile or do anything else other than cry. This was without a doubt the worst day of her life.

At last her cell had been reached and they now paused outside of it. Severus turned toward her and studied her for a moment in silence, allowing Hermione to hear the slow, agonizing sound of water dripping from a broken pipe somewhere far off in the distance as well as to contemplate what the ever-scowling man was going to do to her now. A million disturbing images full of blood and gore rushed through her mind, and she knew that none of the things she considered were beyond the man in front of her.

But Severus only glanced over her body as if he were checking to ensure that she was still in one piece, and then he slowly lifted her hands toward her face. She flinched as his warm skin made contact with her cheeks, but found herself relaxing when the gag on her mouth was removed as she was able to move her jaw again. She stretched it out quickly and moved it around, little popping noises sounding every once in a while, then looked up at her captor angrily, hoping that somewhere deep inside of himself he felt terrible for putting her through this experience. His face betrayed no inner turmoil and she hated him for it. Just once she wished that he would show something other than contempt for the things he looked at.

"This is your new home, Miss Granger, so please do try to take care of it. Unlike it's previous inhabitant, I hope you have better hygiene practices." He spared the inside of the cell a brief glance and then turned back toward the still-floating Hermione, his face betraying nothing. Hermione wanted to reach out at him and claw at his face, bite at his arms, or do any sort of destructive act she could toward him in order to make him feel pain. Instead she settled for a subtle glare as she listened to him speak.

"Behave yourself, Miss Granger, and the punishments they inflict upon you will not be too terrible." Hermione ignored him, too busy being upset at him to interpret his words correctly, and instead she took his warning as a taunt. Now that she had the ability to speak again, she planned on using it as much as she could.

"Like it matters to you what they do to me anyway. You'll probably be right behind them, whispering sick ideas into their ears, and then enjoying the pain that ensues." If she were given to impulses, she would have spit at him, but the idea to actually commit the act she thought of did not cross her mind and she just continued to yell at him.

"You're a rotten pig, Snape, and I hope you know it. I can't believe that you'd trick Dumbledore into allowing you to work under his watch." She paused, thinking, then spat out, "There's no way you'll make it out of your deal with the Malfoy's alive; as soon as you turn your back they'll stab you right through the heart and then laugh about it. You're a pawn to them, and that's it." Severus ignored Hermione's raging insults and moved her body into the dimly lit cell and placed her on the ground. He released his spell but kept the bindings where they were.

A door appeared from the wall and slowly slide over to connect with the other bars on the cage, the two pieces locking together with a faint click, and Hermione recognized the sound as the sealing of her fate. She was now officially trapped within the walls of Malfoy Manor, and there was little to no chance of her being able to escape on her own, unless by some, unlikely twist of fate, she experienced a great streak of dumb luck. But considering her luck as of late, she did not count on that happening and knew that she would have to count on Harry and Ron to rescue her.

Hermione glared at Severus through the bars of her cage, feeling more and more like a rabid animal with each minute that passed. She hated the fact that she had been captured, in a bar of all places, and that it was Severus Snape who now stood towering above her like some kind of god while she writhed and squirmed in a dirty place of confinement. With each violent jerk she made to escape the binds holding her still, she could feel the slime embed itself over more of her clothing, and half of her body was soon covered in the stinking muck. She regretted her outburst, but could not help but feel like it was a necessary evil that had to be done. When she finally managed to calm down enough to think rationally, she looked up at Severus once again and glared. Her energy was too far spent to be able to muster anything more than a quiet curse, but she laced it with as much malice and hatred as she could.

"I hate you, Severus Snape, and all of your disgusting pals as well."

Severus stared at her as if he was able to see right through her and her dirty, grime smeared face and spoke quietly, completely unflustered by the scene before him. "Then it's a good thing I don't care what you think of me, isn't it, Miss Granger?" She would have argued with him and insulted him more, but he gave her no time to answer him and he walked away, leaving her to stew in the dark, rotting confines of her cell completely alone. In time, she would learn to behave herself, but not until after she had been taught what happens to those who disobey.

As Severus made his way back up through the dungeons he snarled, taking in the disgusting scenery around him. He disliked the dungeons and all their slime. It was a detestable place, but not one that he would make the mistake of mocking. He knew what happened in places like these, and he knew where all of the grime came from. He himself had been the cause of it more than once in his lifetime, and he could still see spatterings of crusted blood on the walls in morbid shapes. He turned his head away from the walls and concentrated on getting out of the dungeon without losing his stomach. Not even the most noble and highbred of wizards would have been able to stand the putrid stench that was emitted from every crease and crevice in the rotting room, and Severus was glad that he had been able to build up enough of a tolerance to last for long enough. A choking noise emitted from far off in the distance and he knew that Hermione had not been so lucky yet.

* * *

Lucius and Narcissa were ready and waiting for Severus's return, and though he noticed this, he made no effort to go faster to his place at the table. He had nearly reached it when another voice at the table rang out and screeched at him.

"Severus, move faster! Not all of us have all of the time in the world to wait for sloths like you to get to your place!" Severus looked over at Bellatrix and took in a deep breath. He disliked Bellatrix and had little patient with her, but made no public show of it. They were all expected to cooperate with each other, and he was not allowed any special privileges in that case, though it seemed Bellatrix was given a bit more lenience to do as she pleased. She was constantly up and about, making trouble in any way she pleased, and she got away with it as long as it didn't directly interfere with the Dark Lord's plans. This was a case where she was not stopped, and Severus figured that part of the reason why she was not scolded was because the two Malfoys probably felt the same way she did. Severus sighed and turned away from Bellatrix, deciding that ignoring her was better than dignifying her behavior with an answer. He may be forced to put up with her, but he most certainly would not be forced to get along with her. He sat down in his seat and food immediately appeared in front of him on the table.

It was a luscious turkey, stuffed with herbs and spices that mingled and danced pleasantly across his tongue. He was able to identify lemon and pepper as two of the many flavors in his mouth, though he did not care for the flavor as much as others did. He was used to putting up with much less glorious dishes, and to him it was a lavish waste of money. Lucius did not think the same way, however, and took every chance he was offered to dress up his house with ribbons and lace and any other expensive trinket he could find. The collection of ornate goods looked wonderful in the end, and they did exactly what the elder Malfoy had in mind when he bought them: They showed off his wealth, and by extention, his power, and let everyone know what he was made of.

Severus looked up when Lucius cleared his throat and prepared himself for conversation. As Lucius had mentioned earlier, there was much they would need to discuss at this meeting, and he knew that there would be no avoiding it, whether he wanted to or not. He had already prepared himself and knew what needed to be said. This conversation would require little effort on his part, and would likely not take as long because of it. Aside from the newness of it, the matter would take less time than others anyway, as it was but a small part in the grand scheme of things and of little importance. Lucius began to speak and Severus gave him his full attention, knowing the tall, blonde man would accept no less at this point in time.

"Do you really think the mudblood will be one of those that gains power in the next few weeks? Because I do not need to be housing worthless persons if there is no benefit to myself of the Dark Lord. I'd rather not have her rotting in my house. A field or trench somewhere would be better. Of course, this is after the dementors would have gotten their time with her." Lucius looked over toward his wife and smiled, proud of himself. His wife seemed to have recovered from her earlier bout of anxiety was her usual self again. She looked up at her husband with eyes of admiration and nodded, her lips puckered in a twisted smile.

"Of course, my dear, " she said, glancing up at him lovingly from the corner of her eyes. Lucius puffed up his chest with air and looked toward Severus. The man took it as his cue to speak. He nodded, thinking, then finally answered.

"I have reason to believe that she will be one of those with a power increase, and it should be a significant one, seeing as how she is already quite endowed with magic. The contacts I have say that we should experience luck with the girl we've captured. " Lucius sneered, disbelief marking his face. Unlike Severus, Lucius was much more open with his emotions and was not afraid to show them clearly.

"Her magic is nothing compared to a pureblood's. It is but a watered down attempt at power." Lucius spoke as if Severus had exulted her power and stated it to be better than anyone else's he had ever seen before. Severus only nodded once, and then continued to listen to Lucius speak. The man had a natural talent for speaking, and he seemed to enjoy doing so at every chance he got. To him, it was just another way to demonstrate power and control, though Severus did not really mind because he was not as inclined to speak as his friend was. Aside from that, Lucius had a way with words that had everyone listening to him, and it was often beneficial to him in sticky situations.

"The...girl," he spat out, as if it pained him to admit that she was a fellow human with blood coursing through her veins. "Will need to be convinced to side with us and give over all control. From what I've heard from my son and seen with my own eyes, this will be difficult and require strategy. She's only a child, so to speak, so this should not prove to be too difficult. However, we need results quickly and because of this, we will use a more... forceful way of dealing with her." His eyes flicked to Bellatrix and she grinned, knowing that she would be gifted with the chance. "Eventually, her spirit will break and when that time comes we will be waiting there, ready to scoop up her pieces and use them for our own purposes." Lucius paused and looked down the table at Bellatrix again, whose eyes sparkled with trouble.

"Of course I will take this duty as my own, Lucius. I have many ways of dealing with her already planned out." She licked her lips, collecting tiny droplets of wine from them, and Severus noticed that her tongue was dyed a light red. It looked as if she had been lapping blood from her glass instead of sipping wine, and the effect it made with her sharp teeth was terrifying. There was no doubt that the girl down below would cower in fear before the horror that was Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix grabbed the knife from beside her plate and began to toy with it, grinning maliciously. Her face glowed with excitement and everyone around the table could feel her eagerness as if it were tangible.

Severus had expected everything up until the point where he looked back to him. All sureness that he had went out the window when his friend delivered another order at him.

"You will be in charge of making sure that the girl does not die after Bellatrix's ministrations. Brew a potion to heal her body and bring it down to her about an hour after Bellatrix has had her time, sooner if necessary, but make sure that the effects are still felt for a while after she has finished." Severus nodded, not sure what else to do. He had not expected to have to confront the girl anymore than today, and he was unsure how he would handle it.

"Surely you can find someone else to care for her, perhaps Narcissa? What better way to heal her than a with woman's touch?" Severus looked over at Narcissa, who paled visibly as he spoke. She looked toward her husband, who was shaking his head, and sighed.

"I will not have my wife's hands dirtied with the tainted blood of a mudblood. You are much better suited to the task than she is. And should the rumors of power come true, you will be much more capable to fight her than my wife would. It is in everyone's best interest for you to serve this role and for Bellatrix to serve her role." Severus nodded, accepting what he would have to do and already thinking about how he would do it. He would have to dig through his memory for a potion that would heal flesh wounds but not the pain caused by them. It would be difficult, but with time he would be able to find one and brew it.

"I will need time to find the potion and gather it's ingredients." Lucius nodded.

"You will of course have access to anything you require, just be sure that she is swayed to our control before the power increase. I want her power harnessed for our control. It will make a nice gift for our Lord, don't you agree?"

Severus nodded, knowing full well that the Dark Lord would be more than pleased with a large source of power under his command. The fact that the girl was a close friend to Potter would also please him, because it meant that the boy would without a doubt come after the girl to rescue her, and his little red headed sidekick would tag along behind him. It was like killing two, or three, birds with one stone, and the easiness of it all would please the Lord more than ever.

* * *

Bellatrix grinned, a tiny tray in her hand clattering quietly, as she walked casually down into the dungeons and toward the cell that held the captive. Despite the fact that it was nearly midnight, she was more than looking forward to her job and involvement with the prisoner, and could not wait to begin. A cackle had formed at her lips and was ready to spill out when she stepped in a large puddle of muck and it instantly died away, instead replaced by a sound of intense disgust. The state of the dungeons was deplorable and as she lifted her shoe to shake the water out, a large clump of muck stuck to it and followed her shoe. She screeched, kicking her foot and throwing the muck across the room, where it landed with a loud splish. It was the perfect place to hide prisoners, but a terrible place for those who had to walk through it freely. She made a note to herself to dress for the muck the next time she was sent down here, and turned the corner, noticing immediately the flickering light on the wall. It was like a beacon of happiness, and she strutted toward it, completely prepared to extinguish it.


	5. Sweet Dreams

Author's Note: Oh, friends, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this out! I'll be truthful: I'm losing my muse for this story. I lost it, and I just...oh...

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Sweet Dreams

Chapter five of Underneath the Skin

by thegoatromantic

Hermione had been sleeping somewhat peacefully when the horrid, screeching voice whispered from outside her cage and roused her from her sleep. She groaned and rubbed her arms to chase the chill from her flesh, then slowly turned over to discover where the voice had come from. A tall, scraggly-woman in black was watching her from between the bars with a large, malicious grin pasted on her face. Hermione instantly backed toward the wall in an effort to get away from the woman and her actions seemed to serve as a signal for the woman to enter her cell, because as Hermione's back pressed against the cold, damp wall the woman lifted her free hand and opened the door to the cell and stepped inside. The light flickered as she entered and Hermione had to struggle to keep her breathing even in the presence of the psychotic woman.

"Good evening, dear," she hissed as she set the silver tray on a small table. It clattered quietly, though the sound echoed noisily due to the overall emptiness of the rooms, and it thundered through Hermione's pounding ears. Her head hurt terribly, like a storm was whipping its way through the inside of her head, and the noise from the tray did not help, and neither did the sound of the woman's approaching footsteps. Before Hermione could get a grasp as to what was going on, the woman had her chin firmly in her grip and she was twisted her head viciously from side to side as she inspected her. She made quiet clicking noises every once in a while before she finally released her grip and walked away.

"You're not a very pretty one, are you, you little mudblood tramp?" As if Hermione was unable to tell that this woman was not friendly before, her statement solidified the fact for her and all but stamped it out in bright letters for her to see. "You've got some nice features, but overall you're worthless." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and then stooped down to stare eye-level with Hermione. "I really don't see why Lucius feels the need to keep a disgusting mudblood like you around, but I'm not exactly in a position where I can disobey him, now am I?" She stood up without waiting for a response from Hermione and went straight toward the metal tray she had just set down. Hermione stretched to see what was on the tray and the woman looked over at her, now holding a small knife. She twisted it between her hands like it was nothing more than a toy.

"Is this what you wanted? To see what was on my tray?" She took a step toward Hermione and the girl unconsciously moved backward. Her action elicited another grin from the horrific woman and she moved the knife in a way that the small, flickering light glinted off of it. Hermione lost control on her calm and was sent into a panic. There was no way she was going to be able to keep her calm in this situation anymore. It was obvious that the woman had an intense bloodlust and that she had every intention of taking it out on Hermione's soft, unscarred body. The thought scared her and she could feel sweat beginning to form on her forehead.

"I've got lots of nice little things like this on my tray, and we can play all night long with them if you'd like." She poked the tip of the knife with her finger and a small, crimson drop of blood appeared at the wound. She licked the drop away and gave Hermione a serious look. "They're very sharp, aren't they? Can you imagine how badly this would hurt?" She looked Hermione up and down and scoffed. "Your body is still so virgin." She touched Hermione's arm lightly with her fingertips, just getting a feel for how soft they were. "Untouched. Pure. These knives would slice right through you." Hermione shivered and nodded, unable to resist the urge to do so. The woman nodded at her, as if her reaction pleased her.

"My name is Bellatrix Lestrange, and I've been sent here to make a deal with you." She glared at Hermione and then paced around the room while she spoke. "For some reason, Lucius wants to keep you here, and he needs you work with him." She glanced over her shoulder at Hermione and rolled her eyes. "I'm here to...convince you to agree to the change of sides." She wiggled her knife back and forth while she spoke. "What do you say, Mudblood?"

Hermione shook her head. "I would never help the Dark Lord, even if you tortured me." She crossed her arms, feeling bravery come back to her as she spoke. "Nothing you can do will make me surrender myself to your evil purposes."

Bellatrix shrugged and then stopped walking so that she could watch Hermione. Her eyes travelled up and down her body and then rested on her face. Hermione squirmed to avoid the intense stare, but nothing she could do stopped the awful feeling from pervading her body. She did not like the way the woman was staring at her, though she knew that no way the woman could stare at her would be good. Bellatrix took another step toward Hermione, and then another and another, and soon she was standing directly in front of the girl. She towered over her and began to talk.

"Let it be known that I offered you terms and that you denied them." Fear coursed through Hermione as the tiny knife came back into view and then descended toward her face. A sharp pain shot through her face as blood began to drip from the newly-made wound on her face, and tears welled up in her eyes as another cut was made near the original one. The pain began to get worse and Hermione jerked away from Bellatrix in an effort to escape, but the woman reached out and clamped her hand down around her wrist. More pain shot through her body as the woman's sharp nails dug into her skin and caused marks to appear on her arms. Hermione still struggled and finally the woman released her arm. However, she released it only long enough to grab her wand and shout a spell toward Hermione. She felt her feet stop dead in their tracks and she slowly tipped over as they slipped out from under her. Bellatrix chuckled, amused with the attempts Hermione made to escape, and then she brought her body over to the bed she had been sleeping on only a short time before.

The light in Hermione's world was blocked out as Bellatrix leaned over her body, the awful grin on her face again. Strands of messy black hair fell in front of her face and she let them fall, seemingly unaware that they had escaped the confines of the tie. She sighed at Hermione with a mix of disappointment and impatience, then pursed her lips.

"You didn't really think you'd be able to escape from me, did you? I offered you your terms, and now it's your turn to accept what you agreed upon. It's not very sportsmanlike to run away from the things you agreed to." She picked up the tiny blade again then looked back at Hermione. "Or is that some kind of muggle trait that you carry in your veins?" Bellatrix lightly pressed the knife down on Hermione's arm and then met her eyes. "Let's find out, shall we?"

Hermione screamed as the knife pressed into her arm and the blood slowly dripped out of it. Tears streamed down her face as she realized that this was only the beginning, and Bellatrix smiled as she watched the tears fall.

It was much, much later when Hermione received another visitor. By the time Bellatrix had finished with her, she had been too worn and in too much pain to do anything but remain where she had been put and wallow in the blood-soaked sheets. The same still held true as her new visitor entered her cell quietly and set things up around the room. She opened her mouth and felt her lips crack as she did so.

"Please, no more." She couldn't stand the fact that she had been reduced to begging, but she was too tired to do anything else and much too tired to care; her body was on fire, plain and simple. Every time she inhaled she felt as if her lungs would explode, and every time she exhaled she felt as if her rib cage would collapse and crush the rest of the organs inside her chest. Whenever she twitched it sent searing pain throughout her body and then when it seemed like she was numb to the pain, it would course back through her body again with renewed vigor. She shut her eyes, deciding that she didn't care what they did to her anymore tonight.

"On the contrary, Miss Granger." Hermione's eyes shot open, which caused an intense pain to flare up in her head, and she looked over at the semi-hunched body of Severus Snape. He was standing over the same table that Bellatrix had been, and he appeared to be mixing potions of some sort. Hermione felt bile rising up in her throat against and she fought the urge to release the contents of her stomach all over the floor. It had been bad enough being tortured by someone she had never met before, but being tortured by someone she had once counted on to protect and teach her was something else entirely. She felt her world flipping and she no longer knew what to believe and trust. If she could not trust those who were trusted to teach her, then there was no one else for her to trust.

Hermione cringed when droplets of water hit her burning forehead unexpectedly. She had not expected that the stoic man would offer her comfort of any sort, and she was even more surprised when he gently wiped it across her brow. She opened her eyes slowly and found him staring down at her from above. His face was as blank as ever, and Hermione knew that her condition did not faze him in the least, though she was surprised that he was so uncaring. She licked her lips, attempting to moisten them, but groaned quietly when she realized that her tongue was dry and only spread the droplets of salty blood across her lips. She hissed as the salt made contact with her wounds, then stilled herself and waited out the pain. When it finally stopped she attempted to speak again.

"Why?" Severus looked down at her.

"Why what, Miss Granger?" Hermione tried to glare at him but the result was nothing more than a half-lidded gaze that held no power or emotion other than pain and fatigue. Her eyelids fluttered as he brushed his hand over a bruise near her eye and she hissed again.

She found herself without the energy to speak again and so she was forced to lay still while he checked over her body in silence. She had decided that he was calculating the amount of damage done to her body, but for what reason she could not tell. She assumed it was so that he knew what had been left for him to do, but she could not be certain. She would not put such a devilish act past him. At this point, Hermione expected everything and nothing from everyone. In this world, she was helpless, and everyone around her was a devil waiting to pounce.

Severus ghosted his hands lightly over Hermione's bruised and bleeding body while he checked for damage. He had to know what was damaged so that he could fix it for her; his potions would fix the body, but they had to have target areas to fix. As his hand ran over a particularly large bruise, the girl on the bed hissed in pain and he continued to search, but moved his hands elsewhere on her body to avoid bringing more pain to the damaged area.

Bellatrix had done her job well, as had been expected of her; it was her job to torture, harm, and cause pain in any and all ways possible to the now-bloodied woman laying on the table in order to '"encourage" her to side with Lucius and the Dark Lord. Bellatrix was the best for the job; it was well-known that she harbored an insuperable bloodlust, and she demonstrated only some of it on the young woman's body. Severus was glad that he had not been chosen for that role, but he was surprised that the woman's body was not worse than it was; Bellatrix never did things half-way, but from what he could tell it appeared that she had held back during her session.

Hermione winced again and Severus looked down into her tearing eyes. For a slight moment he felt pity for her, as he would for any human, but it instantly disappeared again and he treated her with distance once again. She finally shut her eyes and Severus gazed down at her pain-stricken face without fear; Hermione was a good student and woman, always had been, and it was a pity that she had been targeted by Lucius and his minions. Severus was also sure that if she did not have connections with the-boy-who-lived then she would have been less likely to be kidnapped and controlled by a band of Death Eaters.

Severus dipped his hand into the tub of hot water that was position near him, and then pulled a washcloth back out of it and rung it out, the sound tinkling in the cell. Though he was not supposed to show mercy to the prisoner, he could not help but offer her a slight reprieve from her pain when he blessed her with hot water rather than cold. Should anyone ask, he would tell them that he used hot water for the simple fact that it cleaned blood easier than frigid water did. He lightly tapped the cloth on the woman's forehead again and then finally dropped the damp cloth back into the bloodied water. Tiny droplets of water splashed out of the bowl and landed on the table beneath it.

"Your body has suffered multiple blows to the abdomen region, most likely by hand and foot." He moved some hair away from her eyes and looked at the swollen, bleeding marks on her forehead. "It appears that you also have minor scratches covering a large area of your body, but it is nothing lethal...at this point anyway." He drew his hand away from her forehead and reached into his cape. Moments later, his hand appeared again, this time holding a small vial of a brown, mucky liquid, and Hermione forced her eyes open to stare at him.

"What're you going to do to me now? Poison me?" she hissed, wincing with pain as she spoke each word. Severus ignored her and continued to dig around in his cape for various roots and herbs to crumble and toss into the vial, which was now gurgling noxiously. Hermione shook her head slightly as he walked toward her; it was her only way of protest. She knew that no matter what she said, each word would be diluted with pain and be made meaningless and pitiful, which was in no way what she needed to be. She tried to struggle away from his grasp when he took hold of her chin tightly with his hand, but her body burned with pain as she tossed her neck back and forth, and Severus forced her mouth open so that he could pour the liquid into her mouth.

"Swallow it," he commanded, staring at her with steely eyes.

Hermione could not help but reflexively swallow as the liquid poured into her mouth, not desiring to drown in it. When the vial was empty Severus let her go and walked away from her, his posture as sure as it ever was.

"It will burn a little, but the flesh wounds are gone."

Severus could hear Hermione's whimpers as he left the cell and walked down the hallway. The girl was lucky that she was allowed to be healed after a session with Bellatrix; most people were not given the luxury and were forced to deal with the pain of a fresh wound being attacked again. For some reason, it seemed that Lucius had deemed it appropriate to allow the half-blooded girl to be healed. He figured it would have been opposite, and that she would be forced to deal with the pain. Apparently, they had higher hopes for her than he had previously assumed, but only the future would tell how true his assumptions were or were not.


End file.
